Poison Ivy Unleashed
We recently moved to Edenton, NC, near the coast. We live in the historic district in town. No more hiking, we walk on sidewalks. No camping, just gardening. Many of our garden areas are over run by English Ivy, Virginia Creeper, and green briar vines, all up in the trees. I jump up and grab a hold and I pull and I shake the tree and tug on it until it either breaks or frees up and I pull it down, wrap it around my arm and keep on pulling, like pulling in a rope. I’ve gone after those vines with a vengeance. I never panicked when one of the vines turned out to have poison ivy leaves on it up in the top of the tree where the sun feeds it. I never panicked because I don’t get poison ivy. Well, the gardens are looking pretty good. Me? Not so good. Folks see me on the sidewalk, shake their heads and say, “Bless her heart.”
I am covered, wrists to shirt sleeves, ankles to knees, with what I initially thought were mosquito bites. But then, they changed a bit. Now instead of looking like a mild case of chicken pox, I look like a disastrous case of measles, or somebody scalded. They are even creeping onto my foot, which was never even exposed. Now, that’s just not fair!
I met our new doctor today, got a steroid shot, and some steroid cream. The nurse told me to be sure and wash my hands before and after using this extremely potent steroid cream because it was so powerful that if I didn’t I might turn into Wonder Woman. That got me thinking. I wonder how Wonder Woman would be at yanking those vines out of the trees? I wonder if Wonder Woman gets poison ivy? How many yards of material to make a cape?
I’m trying to stay positive even though I stand around with my arms out like a scarecrow, one leg scratching the other, then switching off. I realize I can’t say anymore, “I don’t get poison ivy.” But, this is definitely a new experience. All together: “Bless her heart.”